Clandestine
by MoonlitSlash
Summary: Hayner has always loved exploring Twilight Town at night. But what happens when he discovers something  or someone  that throws his world completely off balance?  Seiner  Warning: Contains slash and references to violence.


**Title**: Clandestine  
**Rating**: M  
**Disclaimer**: Kingdom Hearts and all affiliated characters are the property of Square Enix and Disney. I own nothing but the plot of this fic, and I am making no money from it.  
**Summary**: Hayner has always loved exploring Twilight Town at night. But what happens when he discovers something (or someone) that throws his world completely off balance?  
**A/N**: Hey there, readers! Not only is this my first Seifer/Hayner fic, it's also my first Kingdom Hearts fic, AND the first fic I've posted on here in a loooong time. So I hope it's not too terrible. XD Enjoy!

Hayner has always loved Twilight Town at night.

It's beautiful in those dark hours, captivating; the harsh light of the streetlamps, the dark alleys and passageways, the glow of the stars. It seems as though the small amount of light that does persist only manages to accentuate the shadows rather than extinguish them; turning them into inky, liquid beings that spill down buildings and into the streets. This has never bothered Hayner: he's always liked the darkness just a little more than the light. It glosses over flaws, hides mistakes, makes everything seem perfect. But most of all, it's quiet. He appreciates quiet, even if it's something he doesn't often experience in his own life, what with his noisy and hyper friends. Though he wouldn't trade them for the world, none of them, except for Roxas, can seem to understand his desire for occasional aloneness. That's why he often finds himself exploring the labyrinth-like tunnels and streets during the night: it allows him to discover new and exciting things without interference in his quest to know every nook and cranny, every shortcut, and every hiding place the city has to offer. Particularly, it makes him happy to know that he doesn't have to deal with the bane of his existence: the Disciplinary Committee. At night, he doesn't have to deal with their annoying tactics. He doesn't have to wonder if he's going to see that bully's scarred face every time he turns a corner, making him feel like a string of firecrackers have been set off in his stomach. It makes exploring calm, almost therapeutic.

Which is exactly why, when he rounds a building and sees a familiar boy with a scar and a too-short shirt slumped under a streetlight, his stomach drops down to his shoes. Hesitantly, he takes a step forward. Seifer's just lying there, in a pool of light, and Hayner can't figure out what the hell he's doing.

That is, until he sees the blood.

Eyes widening, Hayner silently closes the remaining distance between them. Staring down at Seifer, he winces inwardly as he surveys the wounds.

One of his eyes is ringed with a dark purple bruise, and above the other his eyebrow is puffy and swollen, oozing the occasional trickle of blood. His trademark beanie is conspicuously absent, and his blond hair sticks off in all different directions. His lip is split, leaving a trail of dried blood down his chin. The front of his shirt has been slashed open, and Hayner can see a painful looking, though shallow, gash across his chest, and he briefly wonders if Seifer will have one more scar to act tough about. His wrists are red and raw looking, and his body is littered with bruises, culminating in a huge bruise that looks suspiciously like a boot print stamped into his abdomen.

Hayner can't help but gape. What the hell happened? Sure, Seifer has a fair number of enemies in town (himself included), but none that would beat him to THIS much of a pulp. Another thought crosses Hayner's mind: is Seifer…dead? But no, he can see his chest rising and falling, even if the movement is slight.

"What the hell, man…" Hayner mutters quietly, wondering what to do next.

The choice is ripped from him as Seifer's eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright as if waking from a nightmare.

Hayner jumps a mile, his heart hammering against his ribcage in fright. Seifer's eyes are flicking endlessly from one thing to the next, cloudy and disoriented. Then his gaze locks on Hayner and his eyes clear, his frantic expression turning neutral and hard.

"Chickenwuss." Seifer says, in what, to Hayner, sounds like an almost relieved tone. He shuffles himself backwards a bit until his back is resting against the lamppost.

They stare at one another, and the silence is deafening. Hayner's on the brink of turning and walking away when Seifer finally speaks again.

"So," he says, as a resigned smirk forms on his face, "come to laugh at me, have you?"

Hayner's face twists in confusion, "Do I look like I'm laughing?"

Seifer continues as though he hasn't heard, "Bet you're real fuckin' happy, huh, lamer? Seifer Almasy: finally got what he deserves." he chuckles dryly, and a bit of blood bubbles from his mouth.

Hayner's gaze hardens and he grinds his teeth together. What does Seifer know about what he feels, what he thinks? He feels a strange, irrational anger bubble in his veins and he growls, "Shut up."

Seifer does just that, cocking his one good eyebrow and staring at Hayner.

"What…what the hell happened to you?"

Seifer lets out a bark of laughter, "Aw, chickenwuss, I didn't know you cared."

Hayner just glares, and eventually Seifer concedes.

"You really think you and your little gang are the only enemies the Disciplinary Committee has in this town? Not all of them hold themselves to your _wonderful _decency standards, you know." he sneers.

But Hayner knows it's something different, something…more. If it wasn't, they wouldn't be having this conversation right now: things would have already escaladed into physical violence and they would have gone their separate ways. Plus, the raw skin on his wrists looks a lot like rope burn, and it makes him wonder…

"Bullshit."

Seifer's mouth twitches, "What'd you say?"

"Bullshit. You're a liar."

"Really." Seifer says, his eyes hardening. He shifts onto his knees and grabs the pole behind him for support, pulling himself to his feet. For a moment he sways and it looks as though he's struggling to stay upright, but his quickly catches his balance and stands there, looking at Hayner.

"Really." he says again, the slightest hint of a grimace on his face, "I'm a liar? Well, Miss Morals, what are you going to do about it, huh? Are you gonna come over here and hit me? Come on; hit me, since you're so perfect."

Hayner is taken aback by the suggestion. Why in the world would Seifer want more pain? Is this some kind of trap?

"What are you waiting for, lamer?" Seifer yells, throwing his arms wide open, "Come on! Hit me, you wuss!"

Hayner grits his teeth and clenches his fists at his sides. But, somehow, he can't bring himself to swing. He's done it hundreds of times before (him and Seifer's fist-fights are practically a daily occurrence), but something is stopping him this time. He's not one to kick a man while he's down, and Seifer's sudden strange behaviour is confusing him.

"Come ON!" Seifer screams.

Hayner stares back defiantly, catching a flash of desperation in Seifer's eyes, and suddenly he knows. Seifer doesn't want more pain, or even a real fight: he wants an escape. He wants something normal and familiar to break out of whatever has happened that night. Of course, only in Seifer and Hayner's fucked up versions of reality is a fist to the face considered anywhere near normalcy, and it makes Hayner feel uneasy.

Seifer scoffs and looks away, "Whatever. I knew you wouldn't have the guts to do it. You're pathetic." He turns and begins to walk away.

Hayner lunges forward, grabbing Seifer by the arm and twisting him back around so that they're face to face. He pulls his fist back and aims it directly at Seifer's face, preparing to unleash a shattering punch. But as he stares at Seifer's face: a black eye, a swollen lip, his eyes daring Hayner to do it, he once again can't bring himself to strike. But he can't just let Seifer go now: Seifer's challenging him, testing him, and he's not going to be the weak one who backs down. He's got to do something. Making a snap decision, he picks the first thing that comes to mind: he grabs Seifer by the shirt collar and slams him roughly against the lamppost, and before either of them have any time to think clearly, he crushes their lips together with tooth-chipping force.

He's not sure whether he should be worried that this was the first course of action to come to his mind, but he can think about that later, when he's not quite so preoccupied.

He feels Seifer stiffen, and hands come up that he's sure are going to shove him away. But instead they dig deeply into his shoulder blades and pull, hard, making Hayner's head swim from the ferociousness of it all. He tastes iron, and he realizes that the force of the kiss must have reopened the split in Seifer's lip. Even though his entire body is tensed, Hayner feels as though all his muscles have liquefied, and he can't seem to focus on much of anything. The feeling only lasts for a few more moments before he feels Seifer let go of his shoulders, and likewise he releases his grip on Seifer's shirt collar. Slowly he steps back, feeling disoriented and a little unsettled.

Seifer's eyes are still closed, and Hayner wonders what is going to happen when what he has done finally sinks in. But when Seifer opens his eyes, he seems quite keen to look everywhere but at the boy in front of him. His breathing is shallow and uneven, and he clenches his fists hard, the muscles in his arms bulging as his body shakes. Hayner's sure he is only moments from an explosive death when Seifer finally rests his gaze on him. Hayner's shocked to see that his eyes look suspiciously glassy.

"I…I hate you." Seifer spits, failing to conceal the slightest crack his voice makes on the last word.

Hayner considers this, unused to seeing Seifer act this way and still slightly out of it from the events of the past few minutes. Then, shoving his hands into his pockets, he replies.

"Yeah," he says, so low that it's nearly a whisper, "I hate you too."

They stare at each other, neither daring even to breathe. Then, without warning, Seifer whirls around and stalks off down the cobblestone road. Hayner stares at his retreating form, and is surprised to see the sun peeking over the horizon. How long have he and Seifer been here? If he doesn't leave now, his parents will discover his late night excursion. Still, somehow, he can't tear his eyes off of Seifer's back. As though sensing his stare, Seifer stops and glances over his shoulder just long enough to yell, "This isn't over, Chickenwuss!", before continuing his long strides towards home.

As Hayner stares at the pale pink sky and watches Seifer disappear around a corner, he can't help determination and small smirk working their way onto his face. For once, he agrees with Seifer. This is certainly far from over.

It has only just begun.

(Whew! Well, I hope I did the Seiner pairing justice. ^.^ Please review: constructive criticism is welcome, pointless flames are not.)


End file.
